


The Author Hijacks Attack on Titan, Saves Marlowe and Fights Hajime Isayama in Story As a Titan--Reloaded

by Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Actually Yes I Can, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author Commentary, Author versus Hajime Isayama, Because its Fantastic Thats Why, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Crack, Epic Thoughts Thats What, Gen, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I save everyone, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, SelfInsertJanuary, So intense the reader can insert themselves too for maximum epictastic awesomeness, The Author Regrets Nothing, Time Loop, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?, Yes I do its awesome, but epic crack, super epic, the most bombastic fantastic thing you're gonna read all night, what fourth wall?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 17:32:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9248441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise/pseuds/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise
Summary: The Author Hijacks Attack on Titan, Saves Marlowe and Fights Hajime Isayama in Story As a Titan--Reloaded





	

_It's coming...is this what dying feels like?_ The beast titan in slow motion, boulders flying towards them and a barrage of memories... _So this is what I was really talking about...when I went on about 'the will to sacrifice oneself'._ The whistling of the rocks grew louder, screams rising in renewed terror and the horses' hooves a constant thunder-- _I wonder what Hitch is up to right now...still sound asleep, probably...aah, that must be nice. In the meanwhile, I'm over here--why is that? I don't...even know--_  
I leap in through the portal. "NOT ON MY WATCH!" I land on the balls of my feet in the space between the horse's neck and the saddle. The stone shatters against my raised forearm. I turn to face him, balancing despite our rolling gallop. (He looks very surprised).  
"Marlowe! You're here because you're fighting for your dream--a safe world! A peaceful world! A world without corruption! You're fighting for righteousness and hope! Don't ever give up on that! Be the leader you were meant to be! Your goodness of heart will triumph! There is ALWAYS good to be found, and you will find it! You will be an anchor for those that follow you! Lead them, Marlowe! You are the one they need!"  
I jump and flip off the horse and back through the portal through which I entered.

I wake up in my bed. It's morning. Light streams in through the windows. I feel pleased, and wondering what might happen next in a world where Marlowe survives...

_Unbeknowest to me, on the table beside my bed, volume 21 of the Attack on Titan manga fluttered open to that scene. The ink shifted, shimmered and began to re-write..._

I get up, swap into day clothes and then open the door. The hall looks different. It's hard to put a finger on why, but...it does. Somehow. I have the distinct feeling of an odd aura. Something's different, though I can't figure out...there's a crackle and the floor shakes. I fall to the ground and climb back to my feet, clinging to the wall for support. What?

In the living room, a disk of crackling light rips through the air, the air around the edges distorting. My head hurts to look at it and I put my hands over my eyes. When I look up again, everything is white. And black. Sketchy, like the music video for "Take On Me" by A-ha--or like a roughly animated version of the Attack on Titan manga. My hands have been reduced to sketched-in lines. My house is portrayed in pen-and-ink.

But I'm not the only one sketchily drawn in this manga-style rendition of what once was flesh and blood. Hanji is of course the first through the portal. Her movements are slightly jerky, like overlapping pictures in a rudimentary animation. 

What...have I done?

She regards me with surprise. "Who are you?" Words materialize beside her head in splotches of ink.

"I'm--I'm nobody in your story." My words too are manifested as ink. I swat at them but my fingers pass through the text. There must be a fourth wall separating me from the narrative elements. Interesting. Is this the revealed fabrication of reality?

"The basement," said Armin, stumbling through the portal. "It's like it said in the books and in Eren's dreams, about the source of all organic matter--it must have somehow been accessed to breach realities!"

"How could that have happened?" mused Hanji. 

Armin is poking around the hallway towards my room, while others slowly file through and Hanji rummages around in our kitchen cabinets. I'm more than content to let them do their thing, uncertain how I might further break things if I intervene. There's an excited cry from my room and Armin comes running out, holding  volume 21 of the manga. "This documents the future that would've been," he gasps to Hanji.

Brow furrowed, she takes it and leafs through the pages. There's an odd shimmer, and they shift back and forth between the record of the past and of the present. It hurts my eyes to look, and evidently it hurts hers as well, because she blinks hard and glances away before looking back. "It seems that both timelines are existing simultaneously," she murmurs. "Keep searching for evidence!" He salutes and returns to my room. (I should've cleaned it.) I'm still standing awkwardly in the foyer. I note with satisfaction that my Kappa dude is among the survivors.

Suddenly I'm struck with a revelation. If this was caused by anything, it must have been from the self-insert fic I wrote the night before! I run to my room, disturbing Armin as he examines the rubber bullfrog on my bookshelf. 

 I run to my computer and open it. There, sitting on the page, is the following:

_I leap in through the portal. "NOT ON MY WATCH!" I land on the balls of my feet in the space between the horse's neck and the saddle. The stone shatters against my raised forearm. I turn to face him, balancing despite our rolling gallop. (He looks very surprised)._

_"Marlowe! You're here because you're fighting for your dream--a safe world! A peaceful world! A world without corruption! You're fighting for righteousness and hope! Don't ever give up on that! Be the leader you were meant to be! Your goodness of heart will triumph! There is ALWAYS good to be found, and you will find it! You will be an anchor for those that follow you! Lead them, Marlowe! You are the one they need!"_

_I jump and flip off the horse and back through the portal through which I entered._

_I wake up in my bed. It's morning. Light streams in through the windows. I feel pleased, and wondering what might happen next in a world where Marlowe survives..._

"What is this?" asks Armin.

"It's a fic I wrote. But I don't understand how it meshed the timelines."

"Armin!" calls Hanji. He runs back out and I follow him. She re-emerges from the portal still hovering in our living room, holding a book and looking pale. "Look, this one was hidden beneath the floorboards. It says that if realities are breached, it could lead to the collapse of reality itself! The energy of our worlds is draining through the open portal to create a state of total entropy in which neither dimension will be able to survive!"

"Do we know how to close the portal?" gasps Eren.

Hanji shakes her head, brow furrowed. "No...but we need to think fast. Things are already getting dire." 

To my alarm, it seems that the ink is growing fainter. Faces are getting harder to distinguish. Maybe if I wrote us into this mess, I can write us out again!

"Can I have that?" I receive back my computer and attempt to delete what I wrote. The room shudders and pieces begin to tear away into an impossible void, air shimmering--I desperately jam "Ctrl+Z" to undo it and the words re-appear. The shuddering stops and dishes, decorations, people held in limbo thud groaning to the ground. I exhale. I can't undo what I've done without further worsening the time-loop; I have to write until I somehow re-combine the arcs. But how on earth can I accomplish that?

I swallow and have an idea. What I wrote, I wrote from within my world--perhaps to undo it, I must enter theirs! I enter the portal and exit into what can only be the one and only basement of legend.

But what can I do now? Must I re-write the garbage ending that I sought to re-do? 

No. That can't be the answer. I know what I'm going to do: I'm going to continue writing until my new storyline, through sheer determination, supplants the canon and absorbs the old timeline. Now....what can I do? I begin to write:

  
_But the boulders flew around the Survey Corps as if directed away by an invisible hand. They thundered across the plain, gaining speed, and a barrage of flares sent gunfire pealing through the air as smoke obscured their approach. "What is this?" hissed Zeke. The boulders in his fist were crushed to sand as angry fear sent tremors through his fingers. He grabbed another boulder and hurled it with a raging scream. This time it was sliced in half, in mid-air..._

A strange vibration like an M. Night Shayamalan bass tremble rips through the basement as the worlds strain against my intervention. Perhaps it's because I'm re-writing the past from the future, as myself--I need to insert myself into the past to write it as it happens! Beginning a third timeline is dangerous, but it's the only way to combine what I've already written. I'll need a way to combine this timeline with the current one, so I don't forget. I don't know how, though...

Another tremble and a crack opens in the side of the fading basement. No time. I'll have to think on the fly! I exhale sharply and look back to my computer. Well, if I'm going to insert myself into the past and write from there....I can't resist. I've been sitting on this OC for WAY too long not to bring it in. Except now I control it...oh yes...I want the POV to be from the Survey Corps' point of view--specifically from Marlowe's point of view--so I switch back. Perhaps as I write through their eyes, I'll be able to get the self-insert started until I can inhabit it myself!

  
_That was the last of their flares. A shadow fell across the ground and he glanced up--a massive boulder, too fast, too close, too--_  
_The ground to either side of his horse trembled and it reared, whinnied, bucked and he barely managed to calm it--_  
_The boulder shattered mid-air as if stopped by an invisible hand, reduced to sand and pebbles that sprayed over them in a cloud. He squinted, paused, horse turning in nervous circles...there was a distortion. What was he looking at? The air was swimming slightly, moving in the shape of--a human? A titan? An invisible titan?_

  
_Another boulder was hurled and again reduced to dust. The charge had faltered, uncertain, and a tense silence hung. The rest of the smoke drifted off, a slow-moving mass to their left. The distortion advanced forward._  
_"You have tampered with humanity long enough, Beast titan--now you will answer to me."_

  
Hmm...my fingers tap on the keys. It sounds a little cliche, but I don't know how much time I've got left so I roll with it.

 _Suddenly sunlight glinted off the distortion--a human form, armored in a thousand different shifting facets like a fine cut gem. Images of sky, images of ground--mirrors? They shifted and dulled and before them was an armored titan. Its body was covered in plates that seemed as the crystal the female titan had used only partially. It used them as mirrors? Then, that was how it could become invisible and deflect the boulders._  
_It stepped forward. "These are under my protection." It lifted an arm and the crystal flowed down it into a blade. It flicked its wrist and it disattached, forming a claymore that it then gripped with both hands. It swung, and the snap of the massive blade through the air sent a curious thrumming sound pounding against their ears as wind blasted back their cloaks. With sword at the ready it charged..._

  
Darnit, I forgot about Levi. Levi was supposed to kill the beast titan, wasn't he? Hmm...

  
_Meanwhile, Levi had killed all the other titans, but had run out of gas and was sitting on the field, watching this epicness unfold ;-)_

  
I really wanted to use this idea for either Erwin or Marlowe in a desperate resurrect fic, but nothing ever really took to paper. THIS is epic, though.

  
_The Mirrored Titan charged the beast titan with its sword at the ready. "_ These are under my protection." I lift an arm and crystal flows down past my hand, becoming a blade.

  
YES!!! It worked! I swing my claymore, attempting to BS swordplay off that one HEMA bootcamp I did last February. I charge at the Beast Titan--and a black line spreads through the air before me and him, like the untouchable speech bubbles of earlier. The beast titan and his surroundings stop moving and recede into the distance--a new frame? What was this...

  
Black spreads over the sky like dark clouds, and inky rain falls. Inky. Actually ink. Wait--could this be--of course! I forgot about the only other person who could help, the one who had the capability to re-merge the timelines, to canonize!  

_~Two minutes earlier, in Japan~_

 Written across the pages that had been blank last night was a bizarre, fantastic, amazing story in which a brilliantly designed "mirrored titan" featured prominently.  
But that was not the story he had written. In the story he had written, everyone was dead by this point except Levi (and Floch and Erwin, but nobody knew that yet). Levi, though...Levi...was sitting in a field, out of gas?! Besides, this was almost an entire volume ago! How was it written...? There, it started at the panel in which Marlowe was supposed to die...but instead, a girl was standing on the front of the horse, blocking the rock with her arm.

Not only was that impossible, but how had she managed to hijack Shingeki No Kyojin? Maybe...maybe...this starting back couldn't have good implications. This isolated time loop was dangerous all on its own, and if it connected to their reality...He hadn't gotten ready for the day yet, but this was urgent. He sat in the chair, put on his glasses, picked up a pen-- 

 _~Present time, my time~_  

"Who has hijacked my story?" Each word plummets in edgy-looking text like a depth charge through the ink clouds, displacing a black mist as it falls and hovers in a text bubble with a long tail indicator pointing upwards.

Thankfully the words are in English, ~~mostly because my Japanese isn't skilled enough and it would be kind of pointless to translate his dialogue into Japanese and then back into English when most of whomever might read this likely doesn't speak Japanese.~~

I take a deep breath and look at the swollen clouds, squinting against the ink running down my crystal armor. "I have! I didn't like the direction you were taking it!" The speech bubble rises like a balloon.

There's a flicker and the balloon disappears. We must have entered a new frame.

"Do you know what you've done?"

"...Not entirely, but I'm beginning to think it's a bit not good!" Wait. Am I still writing? No, that timeline must have been suspended when Isayama took control. He must have some sort of administrative override on his story.

"You must leave my story."

"I'm trying. But the timelines are meshed through the portals, and the longer they stay so, the faster the death of our universes will occur! I'm trying to undo it!"

"The portals are opened because you want to control it too badly. Your spirit refuses to release its hold. Let go!"

Let go...and accept the BS ending he wrote? A daring spark rises inside and I smile (though it's invisible beneath the armor. Maybe he does one of those cutaway things where you can see Eren's face while he's in the titan bod or something.) "Make me."

There's a whooshing sound like a deep inhalation, and then a blast of air like a sigh. "Fine. But do you really dare to challenge an author within the grounds of his own story?"

I take a deep breath and tighten my grip on the claymore. There's no going back now. I mean...I'd really hate it if someone came into my story and challenged me on it, but...but he had killed off Marlowe, so even with the fate of the universe at stake, this was war.

The ink clouds churned into a swirl like a hurricane and wind whipped across the field, flattening the grass in waves. I swallow and tighten my grip on the hilt. Manga fight scenes are hard for me. The speedlines, the black and white--I can barely tell things apart--I usually skip extended titan fighting scenes in the manga because I can't really see what's going on--I should have paid better attention.

I take a deep breath. The middle of the hurricane lowers in a globe while katakana sound effects "SWA!" by. The cloud stretches like a teardrop and bursts in a series of concentric ink-circles around a crouched figure. He straightens. Hajime Isayama--the man himself, drawn in his own style.

He looks a bit like Levi. I wonder if he fights like him, too? I wonder how much control each of us has over our fighting styles here. It wouldn't really be fair if he could do whatever he wants on his end while I'm stuck on mine, and I'm not sure if this is going to be an intentionally fair duel or a straight up attempt to kick me out.  
We gear up--

 

 **Alright. Reader. Here's where YOU come in.** **This is now a READER insert fic, as well.** _So I've set the scene: Isayama on one side, me on the other. He's still in pajamas, hair slightly messed, hasn't washed his face or shaved yet--this is serious. He has a steely look in his eyes that makes Levi's trademark glare look friendly. His glasses glint and flash in the dramatic anime style and in his right hand he grasps a pen. His fists are clenched._

_Standing opposite him is a glorious titan in mirrored armor. You can design it yourself, or you can look up images of fantasy armor online and then just imagine it faceted like diamond and glinting. If all the plates flatten and the bottoms go opaque, they become mirrors--but I can increase the transparency at will._

_**IMPORTANT NOTE--though this titan is female, she is NOT wearing plate armor that would conform to a female chest. Wearing that will kill you with physics, you can look it up if you're curious. Her armor covers her whole body and is beautiful without sacrificing practicality. It looks just like dude armor except prettier._

_Go to your favorite music retrieval listening program and pick a dramatic song. First I'm going to tell you how it ends: we kneel facing each other, breathing hard. I'll pick up again after this point. NOW! Start from my description, turn the song on, close your eyes, hold the image I have laid before you in your mind, and choreograph the fight scene yourself. Give it at least 30 good seconds of intense fighting. (It's cool. Trust me. I spend probably around 85% of my day doing some form of this.)_

_(Good job!)_

 

We kneel facing each other, breathing hard.

"You," he says. "You are a worthy opponent."

"As are you, though I would expect no less."

He stood, and so did I.

"I have a proposal," he says. "I don't want to resume our fight. Instead, I propose a truce. You will leave my story and in doing so save the universe--and in return, I will grant you a favor."

I swallow. "That's very tempting. But...I really have two favors that I want. They shouldn't be earth shaking. But I promise I'll leave you alone as you request after they are granted."

As if to punctuate the urgency of the situation, another quake ripples through the ground.

He takes a deep breath. "Alright. What are they?"

  
***

  
He took and released a deep breath, skimming the letter again.

  
_Thank you for your apology. I understand now what you were thinking and feeling when you said that. I understand, and I forgive you, you dumb Kappa. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was blinded by fear; I'm sorry for how I behaved. I support you. Whatever happens, I know you're fighting for what you believe in. I've known you well enough to know that's more important to you than your own life. Go be the hero you wanted to be. Go change the world, Marlowe. I love you._  
_~Hitch_

  
His hands trembled slightly as he folded it up again and put it into his pocket, lightheaded with relief, unsure whether to laugh or cry. It smelled like her. She probably sprayed it with perfume knowing he'd keep it with him, and the others would wonder why he smelled like perfume. Almost time to go...but whatever happened, it would be alright. He had her support. He had her forgiveness, and she knew she had his apology. Things were healed. If his death was required today, he would have no regrets.

  
***

  
"Yes!" I scream, jumping up and double-fisted air-punching. "Yes, that's perfect. Yes, that's just what needed to happen." I wipe tears from my eyes. "Yes, yes yes. Perfect. Fantastic. Wonderful. Amazing. Yes. Thank you."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I guess it is nice to give a little bit of closure to things instead of killing everyone all the time, isn't it?"

"Yes to that!"

"Hm. What's your next request?" 

*** 

The room before me is small, cozy; wall lined with a bookshelf (so many books!) The drapes are closed; it's nighttime. At the end of it is a wooden desk buried in papers. A teacup and a candle are set to the right side. Behind it sits commander Erwin. Candlelight casts his face in a warm glow, soft shadows dark on the side opposite. They catch strikingly under his left cheekbone and over his left eye.

~~I could gush more on the lighting as I am an artist with an extreme Erwin bias, but for the sake of everyone not terribly attached on those two fronts I'll move on.~~

I soak in the scene for a while before moving forward. Then I salute.

He looks up and acknowledges me with a nod. I come forward and suddenly it's difficult to breathe. I forget everything I was going to say.

"Yes, Cadet...Noelle?"

I asked Isayama to give me the cadet jacket, because I felt it wasn't fair to the members of the Survey Corps if I suddenly turned up as a full-fledged member.

"I...just wanted to say..." I can feel my face turning red. "You're doing the right thing. I know you think you're a charlatan, but you're really not. You'll understand what you need to do and why you need to do it if you can find your philosophical foundation. You can only stave off the search for answers for so long. The living won't give meaning to your deaths because the living will die too. The living also can't supply you for a reasoning for your morality. Humans are terrible! Look for answers outside yourself. It's not a sign of weakness, but of openminded reason. When you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. One of my heroes said that. Calling something 'impossible' because you're afraid to consider its possibility is the truly unreasonable thing." I swallow. I feel like there's a million more things I want to say, but I also feel like it'll just be repeating myself forever and I need to keep my promise to Isayama to leave his story after this one last request.

Erwin stands. He's shorter than my dad. He's only a little taller than me...but he's double my weight in muscle. He comes around the side of the desk and I wonder if Isayama's controlling him or if he has free will within this special scene. I have no idea. 

We stand facing each other in lovely dramatic candle lighting and that's all I'll burden you with. I find my brain traveling to dumb thoughts, like--he's probably only 10 years or so older than me. Isayama never gave a specific age, right? Maryann Dashwood married Colonel Brandon when she was 17 and he was in his 30's (in Jane Austen time when that was completely socially acceptable) so they're my go-to couple for consideration whenever I consider--(I mean, not like I would, because I do mature people things, not calculate age gaps between me and older anime characters)--Emma married Mr. Knightley and he was at least that age gap older than her--but such considerations aren't the ~~only~~ reason why I requested Isayama give me this audience--

Of course I would be disappointed if this were to abruptly become romance, because such is my pet peeve in other animes/movies/etc. So I'm satisfied with our mutual salute as I turn an about-face and leave the office.

Although...maybe if Isayama will humor me with a longer fic, I could start as a character and--

 

"Sorry but no, Ms. Noelle."

I'm back in his office. He shakes his head at me and I grin awkwardly. He signs his name on the bottom of the drawing and hands it to me. "That one's for you to keep."

"Thanks."

We shake hands, the destruction of the universe averted and all timelines set back to safety. We agree not to tamper with each other's work. I leave the office and board a plane. The next morning I arrive back in my house in America. I open my computer and write a fic:

It's coming...is this what dying feels like? _The beast titan in slow motion, boulders flying towards them and a barrage of memories..._ So this is what I was really talking about...when I went on about 'the will to sacrifice oneself'. _The whistling of the rocks grew louder, screams rising in renewed terror and the horses' hooves a constant thunder--_ I wonder what Hitch is up to right now...still sound asleep, probably...aah, that must be nice. In the meanwhile, I'm over here--why is that? I don't...even know--  
_I leap in through the portal. "NOT ON MY WATCH!" I land on the balls of my feet in the space between the horse's neck and the saddle. The stone shatters against my raised forearm. I turn to face him, balancing despite our rolling gallop. (He looks very surprised)._  
_"Marlowe! You're here because you're fighting for your dream--a safe world! A peaceful world! A world without corruption! You're fighting for righteousness and hope! Don't ever give up on that! Be the leader you were meant to be! Your goodness of heart will triumph! There is ALWAYS good to be found, and you will find it! You will be an anchor for those that follow you! Lead them, Marlowe! You are the one they need!"_  
_I jump and flip off the horse and back through the portal through which I entered._

_I wake up in my bed. It's morning. Light streams in through the windows. I feel pleased, and wondering what might happen next in a world where Marlowe survives..._

 

(THE END is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end...)

 

**Author's Note:**

> This seemed like an extremely good idea from 10 at night to 4 in the morning. *Did I really spend 6 hours on this? What...what is life? Why have I done this? Oh dear goodness, now I can never take it down. I must leave it up as a brazen insistence both to myself and to others that it was worth it...
> 
> Redux: Oh my gosh, I came back to it. I couldn't stand the fact that something so insanely horrible was being viewed. For the sake of my reputation and the hours I already put in, I revamped it. Oh dear. XD
> 
> LIKE 8 MONTHS LATER, RE-RE-DUX: Every now and then, as I go about my day, the fact that I spent probably over 10 hours on this fic and then other humans read it pops into my head. It shouldn't. It's not even worth it. But each time there's a new hit I cringe and think "no, not on THAT one!" 
> 
> ...But I spent 10 hours on it.
> 
> It must remain, a monument to folly. A remainder of my crimes against myself and humanity. A warning to myself and to others. (Though I'm not sure of what.) You're welcome. XD


End file.
